


Run 59: Sans the Sinful

by Creative_Calico



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adult au frisk, F/M, Fluff, Male Solo, Masturbation, Reader Is Frisk, Remembered Sex, Wall Sex, reader is female
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 11:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5203529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative_Calico/pseuds/Creative_Calico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This takes place during Just Give Up during one of the resets. Sans chooses to drown his sorrow in a friendly memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run 59: Sans the Sinful

Sans had let himself hope. It was a stupid decision, really. He knew better by now, or at least he had thought he did. Still, he had let himself believe that it could be true, to hope against hope that his Frisk had returned. Had become normal again.

Papyrus had practically busted his door down with the news, “IT'S WONDERFUL, BROTHER! UNDYNE HAS STOPPED THE HUMAN!” Sans felt the painful optimism grow in his chest, they had lost Toriel, but maybe they could still move on. If Undyne had managed to snap her out of her psychotic and inexplicable rage, then maybe everything could be all right again. He followed his brother to the crowd of monsters cheering outside of Undyne's base. They managed to push through to the front and Sans' hope was shattered. The Royal Guard Captain stood victoriously, her bloody spear in one hand. She was holding Frisk up by the back of her sweater, the human's head hung limply towards the dark red hole in her chest. The deafening cheers made Sans' skull ache distressingly and he turned to leave. He should have known. Nothing changed.

“BROTHER WAIT!” Pap grabbed Sans' shoulder, “YOU SHOULD STAY. WE ARE HOLDING A MEMORIAL FOR TORIEL AND THE OTHER LOST MONSTERS!” Sans flipped his hood up to hide the tears threatening to pour out of his dim sockets, he was sad to have lost Toriel and the others of course, but he couldn't bear watching a memorial when he knew it was all just going to happen again. And he wouldn't stay so close to a dead Frisk if he could help it. “I'm sorry, Pap.” He choked, “I just need to be alone.” Papyrus relented, and promised that he would leave Sans alone for as long as he needed.

***

Once he was out of sight of the crowd of cheering monsters, Sans blinked and was home. He collapsed into his chair and slumped over his desk, sobbing. He felt like a bonehead, believing that things would change. He sniffled and stared at the floor, his forehead still resting on the table. He didn't understand why this was happening. Various papers were strewn across his desktop and spilling to the floor, all covered in notes written in a nearly indecipherable scrawl. Sans had given up on finding any answers in the endless chicken scratch, chalking it up to a horrid mystery.

“Why are you doing this, Frisk?” he whispered at his feet, “Why won't you go back to normal? Why won't you be nice again?” She hadn't always been crazy, hadn't always tried to kill everyone that crossed her path. They had been friends... lovers. And he missed her. He missed laughing with her. He missed her kindness. His face flushed as he thought of some other things he missed. Like the taste of her lips and the caress of her fingers. A faint blue glow cast over the floor as a bulge grew in his shorts. Sans sighed sadly, because yeah, he missed the sex, too. The sound of her moaning, the frantic gasping as he sent her over the edge, the sweet heat of her body. He shuddered and his cock strained against the fabric, begging for release. Without moving from his slumped position, he reached down and tugged at his waistband, freeing the ghostly cock from it's confines.

He wrapped his fingers around his length and let a out hissing breath at the sensation. His other hand fisted on the table, inadvertently crumpling some of the papers, and sweat started to drip from the back of his skull down to his cheekbone. He started to stroke himself, letting his mind wander to one of his favorite memories of himself and Frisk.

***

They had been dating for a while, and sleeping together for a few months, and for whatever reason they simply couldn't keep their hands off each other. All she had to do was look at him a certain way, or brush against him just right, or even just move in front of him, and he had to have her. He would pounce on her, dragging her to his bed, or, if they weren't home, down an alley or into a shadowy corner so that he could fuck her relentlessly. One day in particular she had managed to elude his grasp, staying too close to others for him to get at her without drawing unnecessary attention, and the looks she gave him said that she knew exactly what she was doing to him. So he waited, boiling with lust, until they finally got home.

The door had barely shut before he slammed her against the wall, rutting against her like an animal. “You little freak,” he grunted, pushing her skirt up, “Didn't your mama teach you it's rude to tease?” he slid her panties to the side and discovered she was soaking wet, practically dripping. He looked into her face and saw the flushed, sly smile, and lost all control. He dropped his shorts and sheathed himself in her with one hard thrust, drinking in the lustful shriek that tore from her lips. He braced one hand against the wall and wrapped the other under her backside, squeezing the supple flesh as he fucked her without mercy. Her nails dug into his jacket and skull, head lolled back as she whimpered and moaned from pleasure, “ _Sssaaaannnnnss!! Ahhn! Ahh! F-ffuck! Sans!!_ ” He growled, “That's it, baby, say my name! Make sure everyone knows,” here he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, “who. You. Belong. To!”

“Oh _God, Sans!!_ ” She was so wet, the mixture of her own juices and his precum leaked out of her, staining the floor and dripping onto Sans' new shoes. Her eyes were glazed over, drool dribbled down her chin as she started to grow frantic, begging desperately, “ _Fuck! Fuck! H-harder! Sans please fuck me harder!!_ ” He obliged, pumping into her with such fervor that he dented the plaster of the wall, Papyrus was sure to have a fit but Sans couldn't be bothered to give a shit. His head spun with the sound of her glorious screams, he felt a tightness in his chest and couldn't hold back his own voice, “F-Frisk, I-,” He paused, his whole frame shaking under the weight of what he felt, and pressed his teeth against her ear, “ _I love you._ ”

She blinked at him, brought out of her stupor, trembling from the feeling of his cock still buried in her, and for one terrifying moment he worried that she didn't love him back. Then that moment passed as she attacked his face with kisses, whispering, “ _I love you too, Sans!_ ” His fingertips scratched the paint off the wall as he resumed his fast-paced, desperate thrusting. Her legs, wrapped around his back, squeezed his sides hard, “S-Sans!” she gasped, her breath hot against his neck, “I'm so _c-close! D-don't stop!_ ” He gripped her ass firmly, his voice husky and rough, “Not for anything in the fucking world, sweetheart!” Her slick walls fluttered and squeezed him as she deliriously moaned into the fur lining of his jacket. Another few minutes of erratic, frantic pumping and he finished off deep inside her, his cum spilling out in globs and splashing on the floor. He wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling as they stood there, basking in the afterglow. He could have stayed that way forever.

***

Sans was thrown back in his chair, his head hanging as he stroked himself, groaning in his throat, quietly whispering her name, “Frisk... Frisk... _f-f-fuck..._ ” He was glad that Papyrus wasn't home, being heard moaning the name of someone that everyone thought of as a murderer would have led to more than a few awkward questions. His sockets pinched shut as tears threatened to fall, _Not yet..._ he thought, _Just let me feel good for a little while longer..._ His pumping became more frantic and his hips bucked towards the pleasure as he replayed the memory of her sweet confessions, the sound of her gasped “I love you”s, the feeling of her body tightening as she approached the mountaintop of pleasance, the scent of her sweat soaking through her clothes. With a shuddering gasp he came, splattering the keys of his computer with ectoplasmic jizz. He collapsed, gasping, sweaty and drained from the endeavor. With considerable effort he managed to peel off his jacket and shirt, throwing them onto the pile of dirty clothes in the corner.

His breath hitched as a wave of shame overtook him, _What the fuck is wrong with me?!_ He hid his face in his hands, he knew the answer. He was tired and he was sad and he was lonely. He wept into his palms, tears flowing out between his carpal bones. He missed her so much. A deep fear settled in his bones, the fear that she would never return to her old self. Far off in the distance a familiar sound began, a few time-lines prior Sans had thought that it sounded like a giant disc spinning beneath the ground, flinging reality into the darkness before resetting the world. He hefted himself up and looked out the window, already most of the scenery had vanished, the cacophonous cheers of the monsters had been silenced, and the world that Sans knew was well on it's way to starting over again. “Goodbye, Frisk,” Sans mumbled, “ **See you again soon.** ”


End file.
